


Sp00kiness

by an_altoids_tin_of_wonders



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: #fanfics for english, Halloween, M/M, how progressive of me, incubus, vampire, vampire/incubus relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 23:02:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5108807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_altoids_tin_of_wonders/pseuds/an_altoids_tin_of_wonders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike is a vampire.<br/>Scott is an incubus.<br/>They should be trying to kill each other, not falling in love.<br/>Whoops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sp00kiness

**Author's Note:**

> this is literally my English assignment copied and pasted  
> enjoy ur gay fanfic teacher

When Mike first became a vampire, it took some getting used to. The urges that had resulted at first in a couple murders and then in unsolved robberies of blood drives, the fangs that didn’t retract like they did in TV shows, and the pale complexion that had people constantly asking if he was okay. But on the plus side, it was a never-ending Halloween costume.  
Which was why he was at his first Halloween party in years.  
“Hey Mike! Glad to see you made it!”  
He turned to see Vince, a friend of his from college, standing with a guy on his arm and raising his cup. Mike gave a little wave to acknowledge him, and kept walking. He had gotten decked out in a costume that people enjoy thinking vampires look like, and wandered around, talking to the occasional familiar face.  
“Hey there.”  
He felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to see a very attractive guy with dark hair and piercing blue eyes, also dressed as a vampire. The world around him seemed to go blurry for a moment.  
“Scott.” He said, offering a hand.  
“Mike.” He replied, taking it. His hand was cold, but, Mike thought, his couldn’t be much better.  
\---  
Just do it. He told himself.  
He and Scott were sitting on the front steps of Vince’s place, talking. Alone. No witnesses.  
It would be so easy. Bite, kill, and take his body somewhere to burn it. He hadn’t killed in weeks, hadn’t had fresh blood.  
“Mike? Dude, you okay?”  
He broke out of his daze to Scott looking at him with those blue eyes, obviously wondering why the guy who had been talking about anything and everything for the past hour was being so quiet. He blinked, and Mike could’ve sworn for a moment his eyes were black. But that was forgotten in place of a sudden, all-consuming urge to kiss this man.  
And before he could think, he did.  
He came to his senses a moment after he closed the gap between them and realized that he now had a perfect opportunity. He pulled back slightly and lowered his lips to Scott’s neck. Just as fangs touched flesh, Mike felt him grab his chin with an inhuman force.  
Scott tilted his head back, and there was no way it was a trick of the light now, his eyes, where there should have been blue, should have been white, was black.  
“Vampire?” he asked quietly. His grip on Mike’s jaw slackened.  
He nodded, a million questions in his mind.  
“Incubus.” Scott clarified. He let go. “So, nice try, handsome, but you’re not killing me that easy.”  
“Nor are you me. Is it stakes for incubi too?”  
“Stakes and salt. What is this, twenty questions for killing machines?”  
Mike bristled. “Killing machines?”  
“We have to murder to survive, don’t we?”  
“I don’t.”  
“You were about to kill me.”  
“You’re a demon!”  
Scott shrugged. “You didn’t know that.”  
Mike sighed. “I’m having a conversation with a demon I just almost murdered. What is my life?”  
“Spooky. Now, I’m going home. Care to join me?”  
“Promise not to kill me?”  
“Only if you do.”  
\---  
Three weeks.  
Not even a month since the Halloween party and Scott and Mike already have a killing pattern.  
They pick a target. Someone unremarkable, dull. Scott turns on the charm, lures them to their apartment where Mike’s waiting. He bites, Scott drinks, and together they empty the body of blood and soul.  
Today it’s a girl in her twenties. Light hair, dark eyes, dull clothes. Indistinguishable in a crowd.  
But Scott makes her feel special. Mike’s watching from the window, pacing around their- technically it’s Scott’s- kitchen. He can see him kiss her hand and say something, French probably, that makes her blush and smile and twirl her hair.  
They agreed not to get jealous. This is the best way for them to survive, and there’s no use in fighting over them both having their mouths on other people. Their victims mean nothing. They’re food, subsistence, nothing more.  
But as Scott takes this girl’s hand, kisses her cheek, Mike has an urge to hurt her, and badly.  
\---  
Her body lies on the tile floor, no blood in her veins. It’s grotesque, sickening even, to look at her face, still frozen in the bashful smile Scott put there. Mike turns away and wipes the blood from his mouth, and perhaps the incubus understands, for he kneels down to close her eyes and turn down the corners of her mouth.  
They take her to the cemetery the next day. Well, their homemade cemetery. A little clearing in the woods outside their town where they’ve placed those they’ve killed. Sticks in the dirt every few feet mark the graves.  
Space will run out soon.  
\---  
Mike knows he must feel it too.  
The air between them is thick with… something. A feeling like this can’t go on. The humans they kill are sustaining, but being in such close proximity with him, Mike feels the urge to bite him, to kill. Apparently vampires and incubi aren’t supposed to live together.  
Or fall in love.  
He loves Scott more than anyone, anything, but his primal instincts are crying out to kill him. To eliminate a possible threat.  
He catches Scott looking at him sometimes with black eyes, tensed like he’s about to fight. He just blinks and relaxes and smiles reassuringly and makes Mike wonder if he imagined it.  
Their kisses had a kind of force beyond the usual passion. It was as if each of them was just held back from killing the other.  
Which was probably the case.  
\---  
“Hey Scott?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Can we talk?”  
\---  
Scott’s crying.  
Blue eyes, wet cheeks, clutching the stake in his hand so tightly that his knuckles are white. He’s shaking.  
Mike wonders why his vision is blurry and tries to blink it away before he realizes that he’s crying too.  
The graves of those they’ve killed surround them, and the sky is gray and dismal with a rainy dawn.  
Both of them hold wooden stakes, filed to deadly points.  
Mike takes the first step forward, and Scott follows suit.  
“I love you.” Mike whispers, his voice failing.  
“I love you too.” They’re close enough now.  
They each raise a stake over the other’s heart.

Their lips touch, and their lives end.


End file.
